


Honey Almond Daydream

by teatearsandbbc



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Fluff, Hair Kink, M/M, bathing togther, but also a little dirty, domestic as all hell, so sweet you'll get cavities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 09:28:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11688798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teatearsandbbc/pseuds/teatearsandbbc
Summary: “I need to get a shower,” he told Cecil. He was already turning towards the bathroom when Cecil’s hesitant, “Hey, Carlos?” stopped him.“Yeah, babe, what’s up?” he asked, pausing at the hall. His skin glowed from the exertion of his run and his hair was swept back so carelessly. Cecil swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.“I’ve been wanting to ask you something for a while,” he said, his fingers twining around each other absently, picking at his cuticles.“Okay,” Carlos said, turning to face Cecil more fully and smiling gently at him. “What is it?”“Can I – can I wash your hair?”Cecil adores Carlos' hair, and the prospect of washing it makes his mouth water. Basically, the fluffiest domestic nonsense there ever was, with just enough smut thrown in for seasoning.





	Honey Almond Daydream

Cecil was just putting away the last of the dishes from dinner that evening when Carlos came back from his run. He walked through the door still slightly out of breath, pushing his sweaty hair back off his head and heading straight for the fridge, where his water bottle waited. Cecil turned away to hide a smile when Carlos opened the freezer door and stood as close to the blasting cold as he could get without actually being inside the freezer.

“How was your run?” he asked, drying his hands on the dish towel and moving to trace light fingers up Carlos’ spine.

“Hot,” the scientist replied, closing the freezer and turning to look at his boyfriend with a smile. “It’s July in the middle of the desert. Even with the sun down, it’s still a heat index of 85. But I need the endorphins, so…” He shrugged and brushed a tender knuckle down Cecil’s cheek.

Cecil followed Carlos into the living room, curling up on the couch while Carlos sat on the floor and sucked down water, his head resting against the wall, little rivulets of sweat dripping down his neck from the ends of his hair. Cecil licked his lips. After a few minutes, Carlos groaned and pushed himself to his feet.

“I need to get a shower,” he told Cecil. He was already turning towards the bathroom when Cecil’s hesitant, “Hey, Carlos?” stopped him.

“Yeah, babe, what’s up?” he asked, pausing at the hall. His skin glowed from the exertion of his run and his hair was swept back so carelessly. Cecil swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you something for a while,” he said, his fingers twining around each other absently, picking at his cuticles.

“Okay,” Carlos said, turning to face Cecil more fully and smiling gently at him. “What is it?”

“Can I – can I wash your hair?” Cecil asked, almost bashful. He adored Carlos’ hair and had caught himself one too many times daydreaming about the way it would feel wet beneath his fingers, slick with conditioner, dripping down onto Carlos’ neck. Watching Carlos’ hair dry had become nearly as erotic for Cecil as listening to him rattle off Einstein’s theory of relativity.

Carlos looked a little surprised at Cecil’s question, but slowly, a grin dawned on his face.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that, sweetie. I think I’d like that a lot. Are you sure you want to do it now though? My hair is pretty funky.”

“Yes, I really do,” Cecil assured him, his eyes lighting up. He stood up quickly and crossed the room to Carlos. Nuzzling at his still-damp neck, Cecil wound one of Carlos’ sweat-drenched locks around his finger. “God, you’re hot,” he murmured against Carlos’ neck while the scientist’s hands came up to rest on his hips. Carlos chuckled.

“Actually, my body is producing sweat and putting off excess heat to keep my internal temperature balanced at 98.1 degrees Fahrenheit,” he corrected, and Cecil hummed his pleasure, his tongue darting out to lick at the salty skin just beneath Carlos’ ear. The scientist’s fingers tightened momentarily on Cecil’s hips.

“Mmm, should we maybe get me cleaned up before we go too much further with that?” Carlos suggested, and Cecil agreed, pressing a final kiss to Carlos’ neck before allowing himself to be led by the hand down the hallway and into their bathroom.

Cecil had been with Carlos for a year, and he had seen him naked plenty of times. But that didn’t stop his breath from catching in his throat when Carlos pulled off his shirt, the muscles over his ribs shifting beneath his glistening skin. Carlos tossed a wink at him as he emerged from the neck of the shirt and threw it into a corner. Suddenly, Cecil couldn’t get his clothes off fast enough.

When Cecil had finally kicked off his pants, only stumbling a little, Carlos reached over and removed his glasses, folded them with his own, and set both pairs on the bathroom counter. Then a smile lit up his face and he wrapped a strong arm around Cecil’s waist, walking him backwards until the radio host was pressed against the wall with Carlos’ arms resting on either side of his head, boxing him in. Cecil slung his arms around Carlos’ shoulders and began gathering in great palmfuls of sweaty, glistening muscles. He hooked a leg around Carlos’ and dropped his head back as he felt Carlos’ lips brush his Adam’s apple.

But then, before Cecil had a chance to really lose his head, Carlos brought a hand to his chin and tugged his face down, and Cecil found himself caught in soft brown eyes. They were the exact color of the chocolate chips in the cookies Cecil’s mother had made, and of the coffee he had drunk so many times sitting in Old Woman Josie’s kitchen and chatting away happily, and of the little river that had flowed miraculously through the dusty high school courtyard at twilight the evening of his senior prom when it rained and he fell in love for the first time. Cecil’s breath caught in his throat.

And then Carlos’ lips were on his and they were all of those experiences and emotions and hopes manifested in the touch of lip on lip and Cecil could feel himself melting into the scientist holding him up against that wall. It was a long, slow, fathoms-deep kiss, one that Cecil could feel sweeping in and drowning him as sweetly and inexorably as the ocean. He never wanted to live or die any other way.

A sudden gurgle behind them burst the moment like a bubble, and Cecil surfaced, gasping. Carlos turned, releasing him, and shut off the water. Cecil had nearly cried out when Carlos had pulled away, but when the scientist looked over his shoulder at him and grinned, one eyebrow cocked, he felt an answering smile spread across his face, and he snagged a cup off the bathroom counter and slipped into the water, closely followed by Carlos.

At first, Carlos draped himself across Cecil, legs tangling down near the drain and Carlos’ lips hot on Cecil’s throat. But Cecil quickly nudged at his beautiful scientist with his knees, encouraging him to turn over before Cecil’s higher brain function shut down and he wound up just falling apart under Carlos’ hands. There would be plenty of time for that later.

When Carlos was turned over and leaning back against Cecil, his body settling between Cecil’s legs and his head resting on the radio host’s collarbone, Cecil pressed a kiss to his temple and ran his hands down Carlos’ chest and stomach. Carlos’ eyes drifted closed and he hummed appreciatively, the sound vibrating in the water all around them. Cecil’s breath hitched and slowly, almost reverently, he brought a hand up to rub gently into Carlos’ hair.

Carlos hadn’t had a haircut since the disastrous incident in which Telly, a relic from World War II who believed every man should wear a crew cut, had shorn it off. Cecil may or may not have had something to do the lack of haircuts, although the rumors that he had threatened everyone who held a beautician’s license in Night Vale with live scorpions in their pillowcase were, of course, absurd. But now, his hair had grown back out and was long enough that it curled just at the edges of his square jaw and fell over his forehead and drifted across the pillow to tickle Cecil’s nose when he slept.

Wrapping his left arm around Carlos’ chest, Cecil began to massage the fingers of his right hand against Carlos’ scalp. His hair was still damp with sweat, pliable against Cecil’s fingertips; he knew he could make it stand completely on end if he ran his hands through it a few times. But instead, after a minute of massaging Carlos’ perfectly-shaped head, feeling the scientist become ever more relaxed above him, Cecil withdrew his other arm, shimmied so Carlos’ head was resting against his chest, and reached for the cup.

He drew water into the cup and, laying a hand across Carlos’ closed eyes so as not to spill water into them, Cecil poured the cup out slowly over Carlos’ beautiful hair, watching in fascination as the color shifted to deepest black and the locks of hair became soft and long, floating down to rest against Carlos’ head.

Cecil repeated this a few times and then threaded his hands back into the now-soaked hair, gently pulling it through his fingers in long, dripping strands. Carlos hummed again and tipped his head forward slightly to give Cecil better access to the back of his head, where locks of hair flowed down onto Carlos’ neck. Cecil wanted to kiss the ends of those strands, but at this angle, he couldn’t reach, and he would not move Carlos from his wonderful place resting against Cecil’s chest.

Sliding his hands out of Carlos’ hair, Cecil reached for the shampoo and squirted a dollop out into his hands. He rubbed his palms together, the delicious, warm scent of honey and almond rising to his nose, and then, gently, wonderingly, he began to soap up Carlos’ hair. The suds lifted the strands, nearly bringing them alive under Cecil’s fingers. He lost himself in rubbing the pads of his fingers against Carlos’ scalp, watching the suds rise and lift that beautiful hair to fluffy, heavenly heights. He let his fingers float in this dream-like state for a moment before a pressure at his groin and a breathy chuckle from Carlos brought to his attention that he had a raging erection that was pressing hard against the small of Carlos’ back.

“Enjoying yourself, babe?” he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper and infused with as much tenderness as amusement.

“Oh, you have _no_ idea,” he breathed back.

“Mmm, I might just,” Carlos sighed, rolling his neck a little so his head shifted beneath Cecil’s hands. Cecil scratched lightly at his scalp, noting the way Carlos sucked in a little breath at that, before he dipped his hands into the water to rinse the shampoo off them.

Cupping a hand over Carlos’ eyes again, Cecil rinsed out the shampoo, chasing the retreating suds with his fingertips and pressing a kiss to the top of Carlos’ head when his hair was clean again. Then he popped the lid on the conditioner bottle and Carlos shifted above him in anticipation.

“Ooh, this is going to feel _so good_ ,” he murmured so low Cecil could barely hear him. A smile quirked the radio host’s lips. _Yes, it is_ , he thought before he began to slick the conditioner through Carlos’ hair.

Conditioning Carlos’ hair was, Cecil thought a little dizzily, a spiritual experience. The locks became as soft as spidersilk beneath his fingers, and they slid along with such ease that Cecil could almost believe the hair was moving independently through his fingers. Carlos’ neck was totally lax now, and his head lolled in Cecil’s hands, following his movements completely. Carlos’ mouth was open and little breathy moans drifted occasionally from those perfect lips. Cecil had rarely seen Carlos this blissed out, even after sex, and he stared, greedily drinking in the sight as his hands slipped and slid and tangled and glided in that gorgeous hair. The aroma of honey and almond filled Cecil’s nostrils and set him afloat in a universe which had narrowed to this exact, surreal moment in time. Vaguely, Cecil noticed that his mouth was actually watering as he moved his hands to cup the back of that brilliant head, thumbs working gently at the muscles at the base of Carlos’ skull. His fingertips brushed the tops of Carlos’ ears, and then his hands were sliding back into the glorious softness of his scientist’s hair.

Finally, when his fingertips were starting to go numb and he thought he might actually die if his cock didn’t get some attention soon, Cecil almost regretfully picked up his cup and began to rinse the conditioner out of Carlos’ hair.

When Carlos sat up and turned around to look at him, Cecil was delighted to see his eyes were actually a little crossed with pleasure. Carlos blinked a few times, trying to straighten them, and then tried to speak.

“Uh –” he said, and then closed his mouth and swallowed. “That, um – that felt…good,” he managed finally, his eyes still slightly crossed and dazed with pleasure. Cecil beamed, utterly thrilled to have undone his scientist so completely. He leaned forward and kissed Carlos, soft and sweet. Carlos dragged a hand up to his neck and kissed him back.

Later, after the water had grown cold around them, they had drained the tub, and they had managed to get Carlos properly showered, they laid in bed, Cecil propped up on one elbow and stroking languid fingers through Carlos’ damp hair.

“You know, I never really had a thing for people playing with my hair,” Carlos mumbled, his words slurred, as if he couldn’t even marshal enough focus to make his tongue form the words properly. “It was always just some keratin growing out the top of my head. But god, Ceec. You make it feel so good…”

Cecil leaned down and kissed Carlos’ beautiful forehead, noting the delicious honey almond smell of the conditioner wafting from Carlos’ hair, damp and warm. But before he could pull away, Carlos’ hand came up to cup his face and pull him down for a kiss. It started soft, but Carlos’ lips quickly grew more urgent against his, and an idea popped into Cecil’s head. Trying to suppress a grin, he fisted his hand in Carlos’ hair, tugging just slightly.

He was not disappointed. A strangled moan flew from Carlos’ lips, and his hips bucked suddenly up. Cecil swung a leg over Carlos so he was straddling him and slid both hands into the scientist’s beautiful hair that, if Cecil had anything to say about it, would be standing completely on end by the time it dried.

This, he thought, was going to be fun.

**Author's Note:**

> This is definitely not an indulgence in my own deep-seated hair kink, nosiree. I just adore these two wonderful characters being close and sweet and tender with each other. As usual, please let me know what you think, good or bad. Kudos are excellent. Comments make my day. I love hearing from you, and if you want to talk with me about this fic, any WTNV headcanons, or why exactly dogs are so amazing, email me at teatearsandbbc@gmail.com Thanks for reading!


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